


Train 92

by galaxy_saturn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Boarding School AU, Dorky Lance Knows Random Facts, Happy New Year 2017, I Just Wrote This For Fun (and To Procrastinate), I Made Up Country and City Names Because I Didn't Feel Like Using Real Ones, It's More of Just a Friendship Sorry, Keith Is Adopted and Shiro's His Older Brother, Keith Sings (Sort Of), Kids' Games Are Fun To Play While Traveling Tbh, Lance Plays Guitar And Sings, M/M, Sarcastic Keith Is Best Keith, Shiro's a Softie That's Final, This Is Just Meant To Be Cute, Train AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9189752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxy_saturn/pseuds/galaxy_saturn
Summary: "You okay there?"Keith checked his last pocket. He hadn't felt his ticket in his hand since before he got sucked into listening to Lance. He'd let himself get distracted, which he cursed himself for. "I don't know where my ticket it."There was a moment, both of them staring at each other -- Lance with a worried expression and Keith with a panicked one. Lance broke the silence with a deep breath and a sigh, then bending over forward to pull his backpack out from under the seat, swinging it over his shoulder, and standing up before lifting his guitar case off the ground. He turned around and stepped out from the seat, taking another step down the aisle before turning a bit to look over his shoulder at Keith over the tops of the seats. “Come on.”Keith blinked at him.Lance huffed, annoyed. “Come on,” he urged. “If you don’t have a ticket, we can’t ride this train. We’ll catch the night one.”Following an 'interesting' reintroduction, having not talked since the previous school year, Keith and Lance find themselves stuck at a small, empty train station for nine hours.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i know i know i'm two day's late i'm sorry i didn't have the time,,,,  
> i wrote this instead of updating more than strangers because holy shit i didn't realize but i still needed to scope out some stuff for the upcoming chapters and plan exactly what chapter 3's gonna look like (sorry guys)  
> and i wanted to write something holiday related so this came about  
> sorry the beginning's just a lot of description and simple actions, not dialogue, but that's just how the story goes  
> so here  
> i hope you enjoy

Christmas decorations were still up, leaving the outdoor station covered in snow and different ornaments, garlands, and lights. It was 4 p.m. in the afternoon of December 30th, so the station was pretty busy -- people hopping on and off trains, standing around waiting for their group, or walking around lazily while trying to figure out where they were going. Assumably, a lot of the people at the station were returning home since Christmas vacation would be over in three days for schools, and parents needed to get back to work.

Lucky for him, the majority of people were getting on the train before his, which he knew by the amount of shouting over when Train 67 was coming in. The teen sighed to himself, watching all the people around him racing about as he stood in the middle of the platform. There was nowhere for him to sit; all the benches were occupied, as were all the lines of chairs. He couldn’t even grab a snack from the vending machines if he wanted to; all of them were blocked by foreigners. Pushing a strand of black hair out of his face and behind his ear, he sighed again, though this time at the clock. The large clock he was standing under, with six sides, told the exact time since it had three hands, which at the moment was 4:53:09. Train 67 was scheduled to arrive anytime between 4:45 and 5, which the black-haired boy sincerely hoped it would stick to.

Despite disliking crowded, loud spaces in general and having chosen to wear maroon skinny jeans that morning, what made the situation especially bad was his short-for-a-male height of 5’6”. At least a third of the women on the platform were the same height as him or taller, which caused his self consciousness to spike. He fiddled with his red scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, or the uncovered top rim of his black shirt, or with the keys in the pockets of his grey coat, or with the ticket in his other hand. The ticket continuously threatened to rip from his hand and fly off in the winter wind. He eagerly awaited the arrival of Train 67. It wasn’t his train, but he wanted all these people gone. All he had to look at was the clock, the crowd surrounding him, the equally bustling platform across the tracks, and the ticket in his hand that read  _ SHIROGANE-KOGANE Keith, TRAIN 75 16:10 arrival _ . It was a displeasing ten minutes of his life.

Finally Train 67 arrived, the mob being sucked into the cushioned seats behind metal doors and icy windows. Despite all the people pushing him to get through to the train, Keith wouldn’t budge and wouldn’t turn his gaze. He couldn’t take his eyes off of what he’d spotted with his purple eyes now that the crowd had cleared.

A teenage boy, his age made obvious by his light grey t-shirt that said  _ Class of 2017 _ underneath his unzipped brown jacket, sat with the side of a guitar on his jeans. With one leg crossed and a smile on his tan face, he strummed the strings and mouthed words Keith couldn’t hear. The guitar boy’s brown hair flowed with the blow of the wind underneath his baby blue hood. Keith watched in awe through the windows of the train in between the two of them, the windows only having icy edges conveniently. The guitar boy’s blue eyes were glued to the positions of his hands.

The train left, leaving the station surprisingly quiet. There were very few people now, so it was possible for Keith to hear the guitar boy’s playing and singing.

And damn was he good.

The boy’s voice and strumming soared, filling the platforms’ air. Keith stayed put, gladly listening -- and unintentionally staring since, well, Keith found the guitar boy hot but didn’t want to be honest with himself about it -- to the songs. They were all mainstream pop songs from a couple years back that nowadays everyone hated, but Keith didn’t mind. Aside from the boy’s generic high school jock look, something was tugging at Keith’s gut -- the boy seemed familiar. Keith brushed the feeling aside, though. It was most likely just the cold playing with him.

A few minutes passed, a song finished. Keith didn’t realize he was directly staring at the boy until the boy looked up, his blue eyes staring into Keith’s purple ones. They stared for a moment, neither of them moving. A blush rose on both sets of cheeks. Another second passed. They averted their eyes and the guitar boy began another song. Keith kept his eyes glued to his black boots as he continued listening and waiting for his train, too embarrassed to look up.

After another wonderful five minutes or so of listening more indirectly, a couple of trains shooting through the station during that time and blowing hair and papers about and causing a distraction, a train pulled into the one-way track and stopped. The side of the train on every car had the number 92 written in a dark green over the overall light grey color of the train. Keith’s heart sank in his chest a bit, disappointed that he wouldn’t get to hear more of the guitar boy’s songs. He latched his hand onto the handle of his suitcase and stepped up to the door as it opened. The door across from the one in front of him also slid open, so he got to see the guitar boy one last time. At least, he’d thought it would be the last time, until it clicked that the guitar boy was putting away his guitar, picking his guitar case up off its side, swinging a backpack over one shoulder, and standing up. Keith, still feeling embarrassed about being caught staring, rushed further into the train.

The train was quite packed, mostly people from previous stations filling the seats. Keith spotted a pair of open seats not too far ahead of the doors and quickly took the inside one. He always had to have the window seat. Always. He put his suitcase underneath the seat and peered around him. There were two people behind him, discussing something having to do with a football game playing on one of their phones, and one person in front of him, reading a book with headphones on. Other than the person with the headphones, the other seat was empty.

But of course the guitar boy had to sit down next to him.

The guitar boy kept his eyes down as he arranged his backpack and guitar case at his feet. Keith simply stared at him. The boy sat up straight and looked at Keith. Neither of them said a word. Up close, Keith definitely knew that, one, this boy was hot, and two, he’d seen this boy before. He stayed silent, though. The boy continued staring him down, which caused Keith to start feeling nervous. He could feel sweat building on the back of his neck due to his anxiousness. The moments of staring began to agonizingly slowly pass as those ocean blue eyes stared into his soul.

“Your eyes.” The boy had finally broken the silence.

Keith simply raised an eyebrow in anticipation of the boy continuing his comment, pushing down the anxious feeling building in his throat.

The boy opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it with a huff. Keith’s eyebrow raised further, forming his face into an utterly confused expression. The boy paused before suddenly blurting, “They’re  _ purple _ .”

The boy’s tone was filled with pure shock, which was what his wide-eyes and straight mouth displayed as well.

A relieved feeling filled Keith’s chest, which allowed him to then respond how he would normally with a friend. Keith kept a straight face and slowly clapped at the boy. “Thanks for that observation. I had no idea.” The sarcasm in his blank voice wasn’t exactly clear, but the slow clapping made it obvious. It was masterful sarcasm.

The boy’s interested expression was unphased. “But… how?”

Keith simply shrugged, leaning back into his seat and staring at the seat in front of him before closing his eyes. “I was born with them. The doctors can’t explain it; they aren’t harmed or anything, so there’s no point in really digging deeply to find anything out.”

Instead of hearing a voiced response immediately, he felt something shifting on his neck. His eyes shot open and he looked over to find the boy’s hand ever so slightly tugging Keith’s scarf away from the back of his neck.

“Is that… a mullet?” The boy’s interested look had only gotten more intense.

Keith batted the boy’s hand away, but he responded blankly. “Uh… yeah.”

The boy’s eyes suddenly narrowed, still staring at the hair at the back of Keith’s neck. “You do realize we’re heading into 2017, right? Not 1977?”

Keith slowly clapped again. “Another stunning observation. You should become a detective.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed further. “Wait, I’d know that mullet anywhere.” The boy lifted his gaze to meet Keith’s. “You’re Keith. Keith Kogane.”

Keith raised his eyebrows in confusion again. He still couldn’t place how he knew the boy. “And who are you?”

An expression of surprise formed on the boy’s face. “The name’s Lance?” the boy suggested, very obviously offended. Keith assumed it was rightfully.

Still being lost, Keith blinked, not responding.

“We were in gym class together last year? We were like rivals, ya know? Keith and Lance, neck and neck,” the boy, Lance, continued, his facial expression changing with his words.

Still, no bell was rung. He didn't really care about gym, so he didn't really pay attention or remember much of it. Keith paused before shortly saying, “Sure.”

Lance must have realized Keith’s cluelessness. He huffed and leaned back in his seat with his arms and legs crossed. “Whatever, mullethead. I rightfully took your place on the Traveling Varsity baseball team since you dropped out.”

Keith began slow clapping again, but before he could say anything, Lance angrily exclaimed, “Is that all you do?!”

Keith contained a smirk, keeping his expression blank, as he commented, “Oh, and my name is Keith.”

Lance leaned forward suddenly, his forehead coming in contact with the seat in front of him abruptly. He grunted with the impact and pulled his head away to rub it gently. Keith couldn’t help but snort at Lance’s stupidity.

“Hey, that was your fault, mullet.” Lance glared at Keith, who looked as though he’d seen a gremlin.

Keith had realized who this boy was. He had been on a different varsity team at the school. There were two types of varsity at their school: Competitive and Traveling. Competitive played the schools nearby; Traveling played nationally. Keith had been on the traveling team, though he dropped out for his senior year.

“Now I remember you. You’re that kid who had cleanup duty the same day I did.” Keith narrowed his eyes. “You tried to blame me for breaking a broom you stepped on.”

“I didn’t realize it was right under me -- the room was too dark -- and I panicked when Coach Donahue came back,” Lance mumbled, puffing out his bottom lip into a pout.

“That still doesn’t--”

“Tickets!” a voice yelled over all the other voices in the busy car.

Lance took a ticket out of his front pocket. Keith on the other hand eagerly searched his pockets. Lance raised an eyebrow at him. “You okay there?”

Keith checked his last pocket. He hadn’t felt his ticket in his hand since before he got sucked into listening to Lance. He’d let himself get distracted, which he cursed himself for. “I don’t know where my ticket is.”

There was a moment, both of them staring at each other -- Lance with a worried expression and Keith with a panicked one. Lance broke the silence with a deep breath and a sigh, then bending over forward to pull his backpack out from under the seat, swinging it over his shoulder, and standing up before lifting his guitar case off the ground. He turned around and stepped out from the seat, taking another step down the aisle before turning a bit to look over his shoulder at Keith over the tops of the seats. “Come on.”

Keith blinked at him.

Lance huffed, annoyed. “Come on,” he urged. “If you don’t have a ticket, we can’t ride this train. We’ll catch the night one.”

Keith, despite giving Lance a weird look for a second, sighed and pulled his suitcase out from underneath his seat and stood up, following Lance off the train and back into the cold, nearly empty station. Silence lay between them as Lance headed to a bench in front of a wall-size window, where the beautiful orange sun setting over a snow-covered field was visible. The station was on the outskirts of the little town, which was technically two little towns since there were two districts separated by a large cliff forming an M shape. The little town was practically in the middle of nowhere, so the train station for passengers was very, very small on both sides. After all, the little town was placed against a cliff that no civilization was able to live past since all there was up there was rock. The cliff went on for miles upon miles, and descended into thick, inhabitable forests on either side.

Lance placed his backpack and guitar case down on the floor, plopping himself down on the bench and taking off his jacket to throw it on top of his backpack. He wrapped his hands around the back of the bench and slouched. The bench didn’t have a back, sadly. Keith hesitated to sit down next to Lance.

“You don’t have to wait with me,” Keith stated, removing his coat to reveal his long-sleeved shirt. He placed his coat beside him on the bench.

Lance scoffed. With a tone displaying that Lance thought it was the most obvious thing ever, he explained, “I’m not just going to leave you here by yourself. We’re classmates.”

“Former,” Keith corrected, sitting down next to him. A blank expression stayed on his face as he looked out at the sunset.

“Former or present, doesn’t make a difference. I’m going to the Garrison Boarding School For Excelling Children; it’s not like I can’t afford another ticket,” Lance went on. He turned his gaze to Keith. “Speaking of more tickets, do you need me to pay for yours?”

Keith shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ve got money on me. There’s no way my brother was letting me leave the house without handing me money.”

“You have a brother?” Lance questioned, this being news to him.

Keith nodded. “He visits the school sometimes to help with coaching. He has close ties with the coaches, so he’s allowed to drop by any day.”

Lance’s jaw dropped, him then shaking his head and staring Keith down with wide-eyes. “No way, you’re Shiro’s younger brother?”

“Yeah,” Keith replied shortly.

“Whoa,” Lance gawked, taking a moment before squinting at Keith. “Wait, why do you have different last names then?”

“We don’t. They just couldn’t fit my entire last name on the shirt, so I chose to use my foster family’s name,” Keith explained without thinking about what he was admitting.

“Foster family? You’re adopted?”

That hit Keith and made him realize his mistake. He looked down at his knees and paused for a moment. “Yeah.”

Lance took the cue not to push further. He sighed, looking out at the valley. “Should we go get our tickets?”

Keith nodded and stood up, thankful Lance wasn’t asking about family matters. He looked around, spotting a ticket machine in the front corner of the long room they were in. The room basically had windows for walls, teal metal benches on both sides, and nothing else. It made it obvious no one really came to the little town; the only places to sit weren’t comfortable, and there was nothing else to do there.

Keith and Lance made their way to the ticket machine. Keith got to it first, so he attempted to get it to work first. He lifted his finger to press a button but stopped, leaving his finger mid-air. He blinked, trying to process what the hell he was looking at.

“Step aside,” Lance insisted condescendingly, being impatient. “Your friendly neighborhood genius will figure this out.”

Keith groaned but did so, crossing his arms and leaning on one foot -- which caused his hip to jut out, putting him in a quite sass-filled body position -- while watching Lance.

“I haven’t seen one of these before,” Lance mumbled before his fingers started to fly. The machine continuously beeped at Lance while Keith whipped out his phone and began scrolling through and replying to messages. After almost a minute of Lance pushing buttons and typing in things and the machine just beeping at him and getting him nowhere, Lance grumbled and punched the machine.

“Not working for you, huh,  _ genius? _ ” Keith teased, a smile forming on his face.

Lance turned to face Keith, holding up his fist. “You wanna go, mullet?!”

Keith, with a chuckle, stepped around him and stepped up to the ticket machine. He input a few things, pushed a few buttons here and there, took out his wallet, and inserted his credit card. Lance watched with his jaw dropped.

“What the cheese?” Lance muttered, though Keith heard it.

Keith snorted at Lance’s expression and muttering. Keith pulled his credit card out of the machine, pushed a few more buttons, and then pulled newly printed tickets out of a slot underneath the machine’s main screen. With a proud grin, he held out the tickets to Lance, expecting Lance to take one. “Here you go, genius.”

Keith couldn’t help but smile while trying not to laugh as Lance huffed, swearing under his breath, and snatched a ticket from Keith. He huffed again, holding his chin high while crossing his arms and turning away from Keith. “I could have figured it out myself if I’d been given more time. You probably cheated anyway.”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “Cheated?” His eyebrow then lowered, his expression changing into a pondering one. “Does looking up tips on Google help?”

“Yes!” Lance blurted angrily, swinging his arms out dramatically and glaring at Keith. “That is totally cheating!”

Keith couldn’t help but lightly laugh as he retreated back to the bench. Lance followed him, continuing to blabber about cheating, though Keith rolled his eyes and tuned him out while watching the last few seconds of the sunset. The sky still wasn’t very dark, though, so not many stars were visible yet. There was silence between the two of them, until Lance closed his eyes and spoke up.

“I spy something black.”

Keith turned his gaze to the side of Lance’s face with an eyebrow raised, even though Lance was keeping his eyes closed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I spy something black,” Lance reiterated.

Keith groaned but looked down, the first black thing coming to sight being Lance’s guitar case. “Your guitar case.”

“Nope.”

Keith shifted his eyes over the slightest bit. “Your backpack?”

“Nope.”

Keith paused. His face dropped into a frown with slightly narrowed eyes. “It’s my mullet, isn't it?”

“Bingo. Your turn.” Lance opened his eyes and smiled at Keith.

Keith hummed while thinking, then closing his eyes. “I spy something gr--”

“My jacket.”

Keith opened his eyes widely, staring up at Lance. “How did you--”

“Elementary, my dear Watson.” Lance grinned proudly and crossed his arms.

Keith raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for Lance to continue.

“I saw where your eyes were focused before you closed them. And  _ gr- _ is the beginning of green. And that's the color of my jacket.” Lance uncrossed his arms and crossed his legs instead. He then looked straight forward again.

Keith tried to track Lance’s eyes, though they didn't move from their focus on the window. They then shut, leaving Keith with no clues. “I spy something red.”

Keith thought for a moment, looking around. Once he looked down, it hit him. “My scarf?”

“Sure is, mullet,” Lance replied, opening his eyes and gently grinning at Keith.

Keith sighed, and closed his eyes, trying to think of something else to call. “I spy something green.”

“Green again?” Lance muttered, peering around with squinted eyes. He hummed, though it seemed more like a grumble, as he scanned his surroundings. Finally, with a gasp, he blurted, “My shoes!”

Keith opened his eyes and chuckled lightly. “You’re like a little kid.”

Lance huffed and held his chin high with his eyes closed, crossing his arms again in a defensive manner. “It’s not bad to get excited. I have to  _ somehow _ make the best of the…” he opened his eyes and whipped his ticket out of his pocket, then narrowing his eyes at the ticket, “…  _ nine _ hours we’ll be here.”

Keith sighed and looked up at the ceiling, wishing the nine hours would be over already. He didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening stuck on a metal bench playing I-Spy with an old classmate he wasn’t particularly excited to be with -- although he wasn’t intolerable. Keith felt his phone buzz; his brother was calling him. He sighed again and picked up the phone, preparing to be lectured for losing his ticket.

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith groaned.

“Hey, Keith! Get on the train alright?” the voice on the other end asked. Keith thought it sounded as though they were in a car with the phone on speaker -- which wasn’t a far-fetched guess.

“Yeah, about that… H-hey!” Keith exclaimed as Lance snatched Keith’s phone and began talking into it for him.

“Hey, Shiro! It’s me, Lance, number 22 from the Traveling Varsity team. I had no idea you were Keith’s brother! We were in gym class together last year! Crazy enough, he and I ran into each other at the train station and Keith’s ticket blew off in the wind. It was my fault for distracting him, sorry, but don’t worry! I’ll make sure to pay him back. We bought tickets for a train in the morning, so we’ll still get back two days before classes start and everything will be fine!” Lance rambled, shooting Keith a smirking grin while Keith kept wide-eyes glued to him.

The man on the other end laughed. “Alright, Lance. At least he has someone I trust to keep him company. Don’t do anything stupid while waiting for the train. I would offer to pick you up and take you back here, but mom and dad already left for Harriston and I’m not in town, sorry. Have to pick up a friend from a different town since there was no way she could transfer from the airport in Dickens to West Lynn.”

“Lynn’s such a tiny town! I’m so shocked both our families live here, even if they’re in different districts. Someday we should get together! But I hope the drive to Dickens isn’t too bad in this snow!” Lance continued, staring at the window and swinging his feet like a child talking to their grandma.

“So far, so good. I hope you two don’t die of boredom!” Shiro replied encouragingly.

“We won’t! We’ve got enough to entertain ourselves!” Lance reassured.

“Alright! Thanks for keeping Keith company, Lance. I know he can be a bit of a blank-face sometimes.” Shiro chuckled.

“I don’t know if I’d say that; he’s laughed quite a few times already.”

Keith’s face went red, averting his eyes from Lance’s side gaze -- even though Lance was grinning genuinely.

“Wow. You must be special then. I’ll leave you two to it then,” Shiro hummed. “I’ll talk to you both the next time I visit the Garrison.”

“See you later, alligator,” Lance chimed before hanging up.

Keith raised an eyebrow at Lance. “Did you just say ‘see you later, alligator’ to my brother?”

Lance shrugged and tossed the phone back to Keith. “Nothing wrong with using fun phrases.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is lame,” Keith commented.

“The word I wanted was fun,” Lance argued with a small huff.

A silence fell between them, neither of them knowing what to say. Keith kept his phone out while Lance stared out the window. After a minute of Lance fidgeting in his seat, he bent forward and began undoing the locks on his guitar case. Placing his guitar on his crossed leg, he looked at Keith. “What songs do you like?”

Keith looked up at him suddenly, startled but his sudden question. He took a second, deciding between being truthful or purposefully annoying. Of course, he went with purposefully annoying, though he kept a straight face. “Let It Go.”

Lance gasped. His eyes lit up, as did his smile. “O-m-g, you like that song?! I thought I was the only one! I actually don’t know the chords for it!”

_ Well, that backfired, _ Keith noted to himself unhappily, bothered by both the fact that Lance liked  _ Let It Go _ and that he said the acronym used in texting for ‘oh my god’ aloud. “I take that back--”

“No! It’s cool, it’s cool! I can pull them up,” Lance interrupted, whipping out his phone. He began humming the annoying tune while typing and waiting for his phone to respond.

“No, really, it’s--”

“Got ‘em! Holy quiznack there’s a lot of key changes,” Lance chattered. He began strumming a few chords, practicing transitions, before blurting, “Okay! Let’s get this song rolling.” A few opening chords were played, then he began singing, “ _ The snow glows white on the mountain tonight. _ ” But, he stopped, staring at Keith -- who was now looking at Lance with narrowed eyes.

“I was kidding, Lance,” Keith admitted.

“Oh come on! Sing it with me!” Lance was still smiling, which put a guilty feeling in Keith’s chest.

Keith brushed the guilt aside. “I don't sing.”

“Just once,” Lance urged.

“I don't sing,” Keith repeated, looking out the window. The sky had darkened slightly, a few more stars visible.

“Come on, I know you want to deep down,” Lance pushed.

“No I don't,” Keith grumbled.

“ _ The snow glows white on the mountain tonight, _ ” Lance sang anyway. He sang the entire first verse, despite the groans coming from Keith.

The chorus was about to start, but Lance suddenly stopped and looked at Keith. Keith glanced at him. Lance raised his eyebrows with a grin and repeated the line he’d sung before, still looking at Keith. Keith rolled his eyes. Lance sang it again, causing Keith to glare at directly at him. Lance sang that same line once again, causing Keith to groan and exclaim, “Would you quit it?”

“I’ll keep singing that same line till you join in,” Lance stated, then repeating that same line.

Keith held his head, placing his elbows on his knees, with a loud groan as Lance sang the same line over and over. It must’ve been about five times that he’d sung that line because about a minute later, Keith couldn’t take anymore. He lifted his head and joined in. They both sang the chorus, and the rest of the song, as loudly as possible. It was a good way to pass three minutes -- staring at the stars and singing an overly sung Disney song.

“So you  _ do _ like that song,” Lance laughed, rocking his guitar slightly back and forth on his leg.

“I don’t particularly,” Keith grumbled. “I just sang along to get you to shut up.”

“Really? Then how’d you know all the words?” Lance pried with a smirk.

Keith groaned. “Shiro was obsessed with Frozen.”

Lance burst out laughing. “Shiro? I knew he was a softie but he was obsessed with Frozen?”

“Yep. Went to see it the day after it came out, bought the soundtrack, made sure to buy it on DVD, and at one point he even bought a poster with Olaf on it for his girlfriend -- which, by the way, is who he’s actually picking up in Dickens. He gets really flustered about it though since they haven’t made it official yet,” Keith rambled. “They’re crazy together. They’re really mature, yet they fangirl over the stupidest things.”

“They sound like a good couple then,” Lance agreed. He then smirked again. “I still got you to sing.”

“Yeah, shut it, genius,” Keith grumbled with a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his stacked hands.

“You’re going to hold that over my head, I’m going to hold this over your head,” Lance defended.

“Do you have any siblings?” Keith suddenly asked.

Lance scoffed. “Yeah. As a matter of fact, I’m actually the middle child of seven. Above me, there’s Anna, who’s 29 and currently working as a music teacher for middle schoolers, then Elise, who’s 26 and currently getting her PH.D. in rocket science since she’s a brainiac and wants to engineer flying cars, and then there’s Kendall, who’s 23 and just started his masters in psychology and human development. Then below me there’s Bradley, who’s 13 and obsessed with video games so he and I get along well, Jake, who’s 9 and enjoys playing pretend with Nerf guns and swords, and little Drew, who’s 5 and likes playing with Jake but if you give him crayons and paper he’s perfectly happy. And that’s not it for my family at all; I’m an uncle already. Anna has a 2-year-old named Gem. Then there are our 18 cousins, since we have 4 aunts and 7 uncles.”

“Wow, that’s a big family,” Keith muttered. “Did all of you get together for Christmas?”

“Just my siblings and my mother’s parents came up here,” Lance explained, turning his face to look at Keith. “How about you? What’s your family like and what’d you do for Christmas?”

Keith kept his gaze out the window. “There’s my brother, Shiro. He was our mom’s actual son. But it was just me and Shiro for Christmas. He let me Skype with my foster family on Christmas, though. I try to stay close with them.” That was all he said. He didn’t exactly enjoy talking about his family; it put an uneasy feeling in his stomach and a heaviness on his shoulders. After all, using past tense to describe relations with their mother was purposeful.

Lance hesitated before continuing. “Where are they?”

“Kalea,” Keith answered simply, still staring at the purple sky. More stars were visible now, as was a very slim part of the moon. He played with his thumbs subconsciously, thinking about his separate family that lived in an entirely different country. How many more questions was Lance going to ask?

Lance looked out the window for a moment before suddenly standing up. “I’m hungry,” he announced, bending over to grab his coat off of his backpack and pull it on. “I’m going to go search for a vending machine.”

“There’s one outside, right next to the doors,” Keith told him, standing up himself and putting on his own coat. “I could go for a snack, too.”

In silence, they made their way outside and to the vending machine a few feet away from the doors. Both of their grins turned to frowns, Lance even dramatically slouching, because of the lack of anything inside the vending machine.

“The crowd earlier must have cleared out the machines out here,” Keith guessed.

“But I’m starving,” Lance complained. “Why’d this station have to be so small? At least on the East side we have multiple vending machines.”

“I didn’t decide which district was larger, or which I got to live in,” Keith countered.

“I should’ve dragged you back the other way,” Lance groaned, heading back inside. “I might have something in the bottom of my backpack still, as long as Bradley didn’t take it.”

They both sat down, removing their jackets and putting them aside. Lance rummaged through his backpack.

“Aha! Found you,” Lance exclaimed victoriously, carefully removing a box filled with small bags of fruit gummies. He held out the box with an opened top to Keith. “Here.”

Keith took one with a grin. “Thanks.” He quickly opened the small bag and popped a gummy in his mouth, which Lance did as well.

“Ugh, there’s nothing to do, and we still have nine hours,” Lance complained, shifting on the bench. He laid with his back on the bench, putting his foot up on the bench as well and crossing his bent knees, one foot hanging to the side -- which he bounced up and down loosely. “This sucks.”

“I told you, you didn’t have to wait with me,” Keith pointed out, staring out the window for what felt like the hundredth time.

There was yet another moment of silence between them, each of them off in their own minds and unsure what to converse about as they ate their gummies.

“Hippopotamus.”

Keith glanced to the side at Lance, who was finishing his last gummy and scrunching the little plastic bag into a ball before throwing it into his backpack. It bounced off and onto the floor next to his backpack, opening a bit, though Lance didn’t move, nor did he look up at Keith.

After a pause, Keith spoke up. “What?”

“Hippopotamus. S. Go,” Lance ordered.

Keith furrowed both eyebrows. “Go?”

“Have you never done a word string before?” Lance questioned in shock.

“If that’s what you wanted to do, you could’ve just said so,” Keith grumbled. He then sighed. “Seagull.”

“Lion,” Lance quickly responded.

“Narwhal.”

“Leopard.”

“Dog.”

“Groundhog.”

“Gorilla.”

“Antelope.”

“Elephant.”

“Tyrannosaurus Rex.”

Keith narrowed his eyes at Lance. “That doesn’t count.”

“Does too!” Lance defended, sitting up.

“It’s extinct,” Keith informed him.

“So? That doesn’t mean it isn’t an animal!” Lance argued.

“Well how am I supposed to continue anyway with X?” Keith questioned.

“Xerus,” Lance quickly answered.

Keith furrowed his eyebrows again. “Xerus?”

“It’s a type of African ground squirrel. God, Keith; learn your animals,” Lance huffed, kicking his legs over and off the bench and sitting up fully -- though still slouching.

“No one knows the different types of African ground squirrels, genius,” Keith retaliated, still glaring at Lance, who was now glaring back. Although in this case it made sense as a compliment, Keith still said ‘genius’ in an insulting tone.

“Yeah, well, they should.” Lance let out another huff while crossing his arms and looking forward, sitting up straight and crossing his legs as well.

“That’s ridiculous, Lance,” Keith groaned.

“It is  _ not, _ ” Lance shot back.

Keith groaned again and put his head in his hands, his elbows back on his knees. “You’re impossible.”

“An impossible genius,” Lance corrected.

Keith simply groaned yet again, then leaving another silence between them.

“This is going to take forever,” Lance whined under his breath, followed by a sigh. After another pause, he blurted, “Hey, Keith.”

Keith lifted his head, an eyebrow raised at Lance.

Lance smirked at him. “I bet I can count more stars than you can.”

Keith smirked a grin back. “I bet you can’t.”

“Three, two, one,” Lance counted down, then both of them began scanning the sky out the window frantically.

“556,789 stars,” Keith suddenly said.

Lance narrowed his eyes at Keith. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“Well it is,” Keith retaliated with a simple grin.

Lance narrowed his eyes further. “Is not.”

“Is.”

“Is not.”

“Is.”

“Is not.”

“Is not.”

“Is.”

“Is not.”

“Is -- wait, what?” Lance’s eyes widened as he blinked while staring into space, then narrowing his eyes again directly at Keith. “Did you just trick me into saying it’s true?”

“Sure did, genius,” Keith remarked triumphantly.

Lance raised his eyebrows at him, with wide eyes and an interested facial expression. “Wait, so you can actually joke around?”

Keith’s grin dropped into a blank expression as he slowly clapped. “What a discovery. Truly an inspiring genius you are.”

Lance let out something that was a mix between a grumble, a sigh, and a huff while throwing his head back to glare at the ceiling. “Not the sarcastic clapping again.”

Keith couldn’t help but grin and try not to laugh at Lance’s dramatic manner. Lance looked back down at Keith with a raised eyebrow, though neither of them said anything. They found themselves staring at each other, and after a moment, both of them realized it, turning a bit red and averting their gaze. Keith placed his head on his stacked hands and his elbows on his knees once again while Lance kept his legs crossed and wrapped his hands around the back of the bench, staring up at the ceiling.

Surprisingly, this silence lasted around ten minutes; that was, before Lance couldn’t take it anymore. He took out his guitar again and began playing a song. Keith tapped his fingers to the beat, though he didn’t sing, hum, or do anything else. Lance’s voice died out and his thumb left the guitar strings, staring at Keith.

Keith looked at him with his eyebrows raised for the millionth time that day. “What?”

“Why won’t you sing along?” Lance questioned with a blank expression.

Keith looked back out the window. “I don’t sing.”

“But you have such a nice voice,” Lance continued. “Why not use it?”

Keith glanced at Lance. “A nice voice?” he mumbled to himself.

“What was that?” Lance asked. “You mumbled.”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Keith looked straight ahead, refusing to look back at Lance again due to embarrassment over Lance’s compliment.

Lance paused before letting out a little huff and staring out the window himself, picking up where he’d left off in the song. Keith listened, just as he had at the station, though it was even better since the room had surprisingly good acoustics.

Before Keith knew it, the moon was quite high in the sky, Lance had lost his voice due to singing so much, and they’d played I-Spy seven times -- of which Keith won five games of -- and made fourteen word strings throughout the course of three hours. Lance, coughing a bit while trying to get his voice to work again, put his guitar away and sighed, holding the front of the bench this time while slouching and leaning forward a bit. Keith’s eyelids felt heavy; Shiro had kept him up late the night before, so he hadn’t gotten much sleep before waking up to pack, spend one last day out with his brother, and be dropped off at the station almost an hour early. He leaned to the side slightly unintentionally as he began to drift off, though he was quickly snapped out of it as Lance caught and held him.

Lance stared at him in worry. “You okay?”

Keith blinked up at him before turning red and sitting himself up, looking to the side as to not make eye contact with Lance again. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” Keith gulped.

“You don’t seem fine. Are you tired?” Lance croaked. His voice was still dead -- very raspy, at least.

Keith paused before slowly nodding, looking down at his knees where his hands were placed currently. A moment passed, neither of them moving or saying anything. Keith then suddenly felt an arm against his, causing him to jump slightly and look up at Lance, who was now averting his eyes and scratching his pink cheek. Lance had moved closer to Keith. A lot closer.

“Y-you can lean on me,” Lance stammered quietly.

Keith blinked at him, considering doing so, but he then shook his head and looked away again as his face went back to being red. “No, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

Lance huffed, and suddenly an arm reached out, a hand was put on the side of Keith’s head, and Keith’s head was pulled into Lance’s side. It only worked since Lance was not short for a male, as Keith was.

“Just lean on me, mullet,” Lance mumbled, though it was clear enough that Keith could understand it.

Keith, with a loud exhale, gave in and brought himself closer to Lance so that is was comfortable to lean on him. Keith didn’t want to fall as he almost did already, after all. He let his heavy eyes close and before he knew it, he was out.

Lance, on the other hand, stared at the black-haired teen he was currently allowing to lean on him and keeping an arm around. The boy was a beauty, Lance thought, though he’d never admit it. The boy had a mullet, for christ’s sake. It was a mystery to himself how he found the teenage asshole with a mullet attractive. After a couple of minutes, he took out his phone, set an alarm, plugged earbuds into his phone and put them in his ears, and rested his head on top of Keith’s. He’d been kept up by Bradley the night before with a Mario Kart Wii competition that lasted five hours past Bradley’s bedtime of 9 p.m. and had to wake up that morning at 6 to help with cleaning and making breakfast, so he was pretty tired himself.

It felt as though he’d only had his eyes closed for a second, but nonetheless, his alarm went off and startled him awake at 2 in the morning, December 31st. Being startled, he shook when awoken, and began slipping backwards off the bench, which wouldn’t have been such a problem if he hadn’t still had an arm around Keith and wasn’t still being used as a leaning post. His free arm and legs flailed, but thankfully, Lance caught himself on his free arm and kept Keith against him. Carefully, trying not to wake Keith up, he hoisted himself back up so that he was sitting on the bench correctly. The train hadn’t arrived yet, but some people had; they were quite noisy, so it surprised Lance that Keith hadn’t woken up. It surprised him even more that he hadn’t woken up; he tended to be a light sleeper. With a yawn and a stretch of one arm, he looked back down at Keith, who was still sound asleep against him. He took out his phone and spent fourteen minutes scrolling through random apps or switching between games, until finally their train arrived.

With a worried expression, Lance gently and hesitantly shook Keith in an attempt to wake him up. He was somehow successful, even after the fall not waking the boy up.

Keith’s hazy eyes slowly blinked open and looked up at Lance as a small, “Huh?” escaped his lips.

Lance scratched his tinted cheek while averting his eyes from the drowsy Keith, letting out something of a nervous chuckle. “Heh, you fell asleep on me, and you looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you, but, the train’s here.”

Keith blinked a few times, which Lance caught since he slightly glanced at Keith, before groaning and closing his eyes again while putting all his weight back on Lance again.

Lance gulped, checking the time. The train wasn’t going to give them much time to get on. But, this was also extremely embarrassing and causing Lance’s heart to race and head to swirl. “K-Keith, come on!” He shook Keith again.

Keith groaned once again. “But you’re comfortable and I don’t want to be awake,” he grumbled tiredly.

Lance’s face went completely red. He’d just been told he was comfortable for a beautiful boy to lean on. How could he not be flustered? He attempted to get words out, but it ended up being a blur of random syllables and stammering.

Keith slowly lifted his hands to ever so slowly clap and continue grumbling tiredly. “Perfect English. You should become an English teacher.”

Lance, feeling stupid for allowing himself to be soft with this asshole, pushed Keith off of him, not caring that Keith was flailing his arms as he fell forward and had to work to get himself not to faceplant on the floor. “You have enough energy to clap, you have enough energy to sit up and walk,” Lance growled. “Now come on!”

With a groan, Keith complied, putting his coat on and grabbing his suitcase. Lance slipped his jacket on, swung his backpack onto one shoulder, and picked up his guitar case with his other hand. They made their way out of the station, Keith threatening to fall face first in the snow a few times, before they stepped onto the train and found two seats right behind the doors, which they gladly trudged to. They both pulled their tickets out of their coat pockets and showed them, then leaning into their seats in relief.

“How long is the train ride?” Lance groaned.

“Four hours,” Keith grumbled in response.

Lance let out a groan on its own, taking out his phone and setting another alarm before shutting his eyes. “May as well take another nap.”

“Agreed,” Keith sighed, closing his own eyes. He fell to the side a little, carelessly, which landed his head against Lance’s shoulder. He then mumbled, “Genius,” to complete his comment before drifting off into sleep again.

It was two in the morning, so Lance couldn’t blame him. Lance grinned down at Keith before doing the same as he’d done in the station; he put his earbuds in and rested his head on Keith’s. But, he put a playlist on for him to listen to in order to block out the rest of the train. He kept his eyes open for a bit, glancing out the window. The station was beautiful at night. The white light of the lamps wasn’t too bright, and the snow on the station floor covered in footprints was dotted with rainbow lights due to the Christmas decorations that still hadn’t been taken down. The stars were bright in the purple sky above the forestry in the distance behind the small building that was the station. It was a pretty sight. After taking a moment to take it in, the train beginning to move, Lance closed his eyes and fell asleep again.

At 6:30 a.m., Lance’s alarm went off, and thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about possibly falling off a bench and taking Keith down with him. He simply eased back into the seat with a relieved sighed. The train was still moving, so he took out his phone and texted his mother and siblings a good morning message, as was tradition in their family. He also, of course, added  _ Happy New Year’s Eve _ . After eight minutes of him failing to kill zombies with plant-like weaponry in a lawn setting, the train came to a stop. He gently shook Keith awake and yet again had to deal with Keith not wanting to get up. Practically dragging Keith into the normal-sized train station, they found their way out and got a taxi to drive them back to the school.

The large boarding school had its gates open, acknowledging that students would be returning, though all the doors were locked. Of course, the school provided all students with key cards to the dorm building. The school had multiple buildings tied together with above-ground passageways, though roads ran around all five buildings that made up the school. Each building towered and was wide, as though they were large corporation buildings.

Keith went rummaging through the front pocket of his suitcase to find his key card, which Lance took as an opportunity to beat Keith to paying the taxi driver.

“You should have let me pay,” Keith scolded as they made their way up the thin stairwell in the dorm building. For whatever reason, the 5-floor, extremely wide dorm building was the only building on campus with a more old-fashioned design. The dorms were set up as apartments, one hallway per floor that encircled the entire floor in a rectangle outside of the dorm rooms, with small staircases every here and there -- some only connecting certain floors. Lance and Keith were currently climbing one of the stairwells that connected all five floors.

“Too bad, mullet,” Lance responded without looking back.

“Fuck you, genius,” Keith grumbled as they continued climbing.

Lance looked back with a smile. “Is that an offer?” He was joking, of course.

Keith grunted, glaring up at Lance. “No.”

Lance simply chuckled as he looked forward again. “Which floor are you on exactly?”

“The third,” Keith responded with a groan.

“You must be in a different hallway than I am,” Lance commented. “I’m on the third floor too.”

A grumble in the back of Keith’s throat was the only response Lance received. They were both still very tired, to be fair. They finally found themselves at the opening to the third floor, stepping into the hallway. Instead of parting ways immediately, they simply stood side by side, staring at each other in silence.

That silence was broken by Lance looking away and clearing his throat. “So, uh, do you… do you have any plans for New Year’s?”

“No,” Keith answered shortly.

Lance gulped. “W-well, my friend and I are hosting a small party. More like a get-together, but uh… my room number’s 365 if you want to come. We’re meeting at 9.”

A grin spread on Keith’s face. “Alright. See you later, then, genius.”

Lance turned his gaze back to Keith with a wide smile. “Yeah, see you later, mullet.”

Neither of them moved for a moment, still keeping eye contact, but then both of them walked off to their rooms. And both of them crashed on their couches despite their roommates being annoyed with them for not coming home on the first train and expressing their annoyance in their personalized way -- Keith getting poked at and being asked millions of questions while Lance got pillows chucked at him and got lectured.

Both of them simply groaned and fell asleep, regretting getting off of train 92.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked this short !!  
> if you want to contact me you can reach me on instagram (@ galaxy.a_saturn) or tumblr (@ apple-saturn)  
> thanks for reading <3


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